Novel Name : My Husband Is a Gary Stu

My Husband Is a Gary Stu Chapter 813

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Lilian sounded calm on the other end. “Helt Corporation keeps him busy enough, and he's not short on

money. Jack told me he is happy to have spent those five years with Lucian and Amanda. The children

gave him a period of happiness, and he gives them a gift in exchange. You don't have to feel

uncomfortable to accept it.”

It was not just the children keeping Jack company for the past five years. Jack, too, has helped me out

so much.

At the thought of his companionship in the past, Genevieve's calloused heart melted somewhat. She

even forgot all about the period when he had imprisoned her.

“How's his injury?” Genevieve asked as she pursed her lips.

“Are you referring to the stab wound you caused?” Lilian asked. “He lost some blood. I bandaged him

up that night, and he did not even go to the hospital. It's been over a month, and the scar on his

stomach has almost faded. Would you like to speak with Jack? I'll put him on.”

“No need.” Genevieve felt relieved upon hearing that Jack was fine and that he seemed to be getting

on well with Lilian.

“Genevieve,” Lilian said in a quiet voice, “you've lived with Jack in Dartan for five years and have raised

children together. Did you... ever love him?”

Genevieve was puzzled as to why she would suddenly ask something like that.

After a prolonged silence, she answered slowly, “I met Armand when I was nine. After going around in

circles until I was twenty-three, I met him again.”

Liliam smiled. “I understand. Wish the children a happy birthday for me.”

“I will.”

After the call ended, Genevieve walked to the living room and lifted her daughter, who was building a

castle with plastic bricks.

“It's half-past eleven, Little Princess. You should be taking a shower and preparing for bed.”

Amanda pouted in response.

Genevieve raised her eyebrows. “If you play for another ten minutes, you will wake up with dark circles

under your eyes, and your cheeks will turn yellow. You'll be a little witch and no longer a little princess.

Do you still want to play?”

“No.” Amanda shook her head fervently. “I must protect my adorable face.”

Genevieve smiled as she pecked her daughter's soft cheeks.

While bathing her child, Genevieve noticed that Amanda was in a good mood. Initially, she considered

asking why Amanda was not upset about her father not celebrating her birthday with her, but the kid

might have forgotten about it due to the excitement of the birthday celebration. At last, Genevieve

decided not to mention it for fear of her question being a reminder to the girl.

After tucking Amanda in, Genevieve returned to the master bedroom she and Armand once shared and

discovered a bottle of paper cranes on the couch.

Liliam smiled. “I understand. Wish the children a happy birthday for me.”

The glass bottle was a meter tall and filled with paper cranes.

Aside from ones folded with standard blue and pink papers, some of the cranes were folded with a

special kind of fluorescent paper. Under the dim ambient lights, the luminescent cranes shimmered in

the darkness in different colors.

Genevieve stood transfixed at the door for a long time before turning on the light and heading toward

the couch.

When she was close enough, Genevieve saw that the cranes were great in number—several hundreds

at least. Is this Amanda's gift? Did she put it here in the bedroom for fear of it breaking?

Just then, Lucian's boyish voice sounded from behind Genevieve amidst her contemplation. “Mr.

Sullivan came with a car full of gifts after you left with Harry, Mommy.”

Genevieve turned around to look at her son. “Is this a gift from Mr. Sullivan to you or Mandy?”

“I've conducted a quick survey and found that these fluorescent papers are pretty much discontinued.

As paper cranes like these are not for sale on the Internet, they must have been folded one at a time,”

Lucian explained. “Mr. Sullivan doesn't know how to be romantic. Besides, he brought this bottle into

the master bedroom before anything else.”

Then, he ventured a bold guess. “It must have been Daddy who folded the cranes in this bottle.”

Update of My Husband Is a Gary Stu

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